


the fault of boredom

by tomrian (transnymphtaire)



Series: Things I write when procrastinating [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Crack Treated Seriously, Harry Potter is a Little Shit, Lies, M/M, Questionable Plans, Questionable Rituals, Sexual frustration is a side effect of time travel, questionable sanity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8500072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transnymphtaire/pseuds/tomrian
Summary: Tick tock says the clock, until Harry gets an insane idea that might kill him and that involves stealing pinned butterflies from a museum for a ritual that might not even work. Oh, and a fire.Harry Potter travels back in time, and fucks shit up by pretending to be a) Voldie's son from the future b) Voldie's half-brother and c) the lovechild of Dumbledore, Ollivander and Fortescue. Because he was, is, bored.





	1. some people should not get ideas nor create rituals

**Author's Note:**

> harry is 33 years old if anyone wonders and he does not act his age

_Tick._  
_Tock._  
_Tick._  
_Tock._  
_Tick-_  
_-tock._  
_Ticktockticktockticktockticktocktick-_

Tock.

The repetitive sound of a clock is the only thing breaking the silence that he has encased himself with. _Is this what madness tastes like?_ he wonders. If it is, it tastes like dry air and the vibrant anxiety that makes his blood boil.

The horrible truth of his circumstances is that he is bored; utterly mind-numbingly bored. To make matters worse, the mind-numbing boredom settled next to the anxiety in his bones on the 3rd of May, 1998 and has not left since then.

It’s now the 5th of November. 2013.

And he is still so achingly mind-numbingly bored.

His friends tried to help him at first but they were all dealing with the aftermath of the war and the scars that it has left behind.

He has talked to the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet, he has shook hands with people at the ministry and that he has met on the street, he has attended funeral after funeral after funeral, until he lost his voice, his hand cramps, and he has no tears left to cry.

And he has done it all with the same sense of boredom eating away at him.

It was only expected that his friends stops visiting, stops sending letters that remains unanswered, stops calling. It was only expected that Britain forgets about him.

He knows nothing but the dry air of Grimmauld Place, the repetitiveness of the old grandfather clock in the corner, and the boredom that never left. He cannot remember the last time that he left the sofa upon which he is lying face-down, his face mashed against the pillows. His human needs were replaced with boredom all those years ago.

Not for the first time, he wonders if there is any truth to the tale of the three brothers, and if so, if this is Death’s way of punishing him for his accidental ownership of the three hallows. Stranger things has happened to him. Not that Death had been responsible for any of those times… Voldemort had been.

And suddenly, for the first time in 15½ years, Harry James Potter has an idea. A really fucking stupid, potentially life-risking idea.

* * *

It takes the whole Black library, twenty-one cryptic conversations with Luna, seventeen nargles, twelve pinned butterflies stolen from a museum, five pairs of Dumbledore’s old socks, and a broken set of Narcissa’s nicest china, but it’s going to work. It also takes some more logical things as three wands - one of elder, one of holly, one of yew - and the remains of a Horcrux. He chooses himself for that one; it was enough of an adventure to get Dumbledore’s old socks.

The ritual itself - because of course the idea needs a ritual - is pretty simple. Luna has given him a collection of cryptic notes for what he should expect after it works along with not so cryptic ritual instructions. She even organized it all as lists.

  1. Stuff each pair of Dumbledore’s socks with 3.4 nargles and 2.4 pinned butterflies
  2. Use all three wands simultaneously to put the socks on fire
  3. Throw the burning socks into the library and wait for the books to start burning
  4. Cut the remains of the Horcrux with the broken china pieces according to the phase of the moon and the position of Neptune
  5. Throw the Horcrux remains into the library fire
  6. Have Luna put out the fire after the ritual succeeds



Harry is not there to see the sixth point get put into action.

* * *

The perhaps - in hindsight - obvious issue with throwing yourself into a library fire is that you can’t avoid getting burned alive. Add to that the loss of blood and the questionable sanity of it all…

Harry is not at all surprised when he opens his eyes to be met with the white ceiling of Hogwarts’ hospital wing; he is surprised by the thought that it’s the first time in his life that it’s a sight that he is happy to be met with. Hogwarts has always been his safe place, which definitely is ironic. All sense of happiness or safety disappears as he lower his glance and meet the twinkling eye of the one and only too-many-names Dumbledore. He knew that he should have questioned Luna more on the socks!

“How may I help you, sir?” he asks politely in hope that it will at least to some degree manage to throw Dumbledore off track. The infuriating Headmaster smiles calmly at him. Harry refuses to sit up to appear even politer; he’s not sure if he can anyway. He has yet to look at the damage of the flames and cuts.

“What you’re doing with two wands that have belonged to or are currently belonging to Dark Lords is a good start. Especially as one of them hasn’t left my possession.” Dumbledore inquires, looking genuinely interested. Harry swallows. He hopes that Luna’s notes has survived the fire.

“How are you sure it’s the same wand if it hasn’t left your possession? And wouldn’t it be all over the Prophet if a Dark Lord got disarmed?”

“Ah, both very good questions, my boy. Lets call it the intuition of an old man, shall we?”

Harry silently curses the ritual for bringing him to Hogwarts out of all places.

“Would you believe me if I said that a ritual gone wrong resulted in me traveling to the past?” Harry asks; it’s not far from the truth. He is not actually sure if the ritual has succeeded, but Dumbledore still being alive seems like a positive in that context.

“A ritual would certainly explain the state that you arrived in and the duplicate wands, mr…?”

Harry grins.  
“Riddle. Hadrian Mily Arthames Riddle.”

He gives a laugh as Dumbledore pales. Messing with the past is fun.

“Not Gaunt?” Dumbledore asks at last.

“Why would daddy dearest give me grandmother’s maiden name?” Harry questions with wide eyes and both eyebrows slightly raised. Dumbledore smiles thinly and gives an acknowledging nod in response.

“And your mother?”

“Now, that would be spoiling the future, sir.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but where am I in your future?”

Harry grins again, wider this time.  
“Dead.”

* * *

Dumbledore leaves rather quickly after that. He does give the date and asks Harry to at least consider staying at Hogwarts so that they can find a way to send him back. Harry is extremely amused by the fact that Dumbledore never introduced himself, but assumed that Harry would know who he was. He also definitely has no plans on staying at Hogwarts and get sent back, so he gets up from the bed and leaves only minutes after Dumbledore.

If he gets to the Chamber, he might be able to apparate from there. Or he should just go to the Room of Requirement… the hospital wing is on the first floor, so the Chamber is definitely closer.

Now, what can he possibly get up to in 1965?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> voldemort is 38 going on 39 btw. i don't think i've seen a fic with this age frame before idk


	2. some people actually have plans before they travel in time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality catches up to Harry, and then quickly leaves again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are actually characters from canon that are hogwarts students in 1965

Time, Harry quickly discovers, should not be traveled in without good preparations and decent sanity. He has barely left the hospital wing before his nerves starts working again and he collapses in pain. Apparently he should have waited around to see the nurse. He should also made sure that was wearing more than his underwear, that he has the wands, and that he has Luna’s notes. As it is, he is only wearing his underwear, he doesn’t have the wands, and he doesn’t have Luna’s notes. The only saving grace is that he is wearing a pair of charmed Muggle lenses, but they’re itching horribly; he needs to get his hands on a pair of glasses sometime soon.

But back to his current predicament.

It’s amazingly enough the 5th of November, which means that he traveled back 48 years and 14 days, as Dumbledore said that he’d ‘only’ been comatose for 7 hours. The problem is that the 5th of November is a Friday, and classes just let out for the day, and Harry is collapsed on the floor of a corridor on the first floor, while wearing nothing but a pink pair of boxer briefs with animated purple pygmy puffs.

He really should have expected it when a young teenage girl that looks startlingly like a young Bellatrix is the one to find him. While his parents are too young for Hogwarts, all of the adults from his childhood isn’t. The knowledge that the fraud Lockhart is about 1½ year old and therefore not going to be a pain in his arse this time is enough to distract him from the looming teenage Bellatrix, and from the reason why he knows Lockhart’s birth year in the first place.

“I should scream _Stranger Danger_ as those disgusting lil’ Mudbloods are taught to do,” Bellatrix - because Harry is certain by now that it can’t be another young teenage girl that just happens to look like Bellatrix - says. “But you amuse me. Tell me what you’re doing or I’ll scream.”

Harry considers if he should be the one to scream instead but ends up laughing. Of course Bellatrix would be amused by a strange man covered in burns and cuts just casually lying on the cold corridor floor in the middle of the school year. He wonders how she would react if he told her that it was the flames of the burning Black library that hurt him. Probably not in any way that would be good for him, or his already endangered health.

“I’m planning the murder of Albus Dumbledore.” Harry helpfully answers after what might have been an awkward silence, and might have been two strangers looking considerately at each other. It would make a nice gift for Voldemort now that he thinks about it, if he were to murder the barmy Headmaster. “The plan involves the release of the basilisk hidden in the Chamber of Secrets, a bag of lemondrops, lube, and a tickling hex.”

Bellatrix nods at him as if it makes perfect sense, and for her, it probably does. It definitely does to him, but he has already come to fact with his sanity being of questionable quality. He grins; grinning is quickly becoming a habit, but the chance of unsettling people makes it a good one so he doesn’t care.

“If you need help, ask for Bella Black in the Slytherin dorms. The password is _blibbering humdingers_.” she says at last, and then turn on her heel and leaves as if she didn’t just have a strange conversation with a strange man.

For one moment, Harry isn’t sure how to react beyond wanting to immediately tell Luna about the blibbering humdingers of ‘65, but then reality catches up to him. There’s 16 years left before Luna’s birth, and he can’t imagine waiting that long. Xenophilius should be alive and willing to talk though, if Harry manage to find him.

He didn’t have any plans on finding his friends’ parents, nor his own, but he didn’t have any plan to begin with. He apparently does have a plan to find at least Luna’s father, and that’s as good of a starting point as anything.

Before any of that though, he has to get up from the floor, get dressed, get the wands, Luna’s notes, and get out of Hogwarts. Or… or he could get up from the floor, get dressed, get the wands, Luna’s notes, and mess with the current teachers.

Except McGonagall. He will not mess with McGonagall.

The current divination teacher on the other hand… Harry laughs, and scares the students walking past. He should probably get back to the hospital wing before someone calls the wizard cops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun characters that goes to hogwarts in 1965 according to canon;  
> rita skeeter (fourth year)  
> bella (obviously, also fourth year)  
> andromeda (i put her in second year)  
> lucius (first year)  
> molly (fifth year)  
> arthur (fifth year)  
> ...probably other people but i can't come up with any more names
> 
> and fun characters that could very likely go to hogwarts in 1965;  
> sybill trelawney  
> cornelius fudge  
> alastor moody  
> xenophilius lovegood  
> gideon and fabian prewett


	3. some people should probably not be friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hospital wing is entered and left by many people

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's fun to come up with chapter titles and summaries

Getting back to the hospital wing takes a lot more effort than leaving it did, as he collapses in pain after every step he takes. It was probably lucky that he didn’t get that far in the first place. It’s only slightly questionable that the nurse - or matron - has yet to check up on him. Perhaps dearest madam Pomfrey hasn’t taken up the position yet? That certainly would explain how he was able to leave.

Harry has finally dragged his scorched body back to the hospital wing when the door to the nurse office opens and a young madam Pomfrey steps out. They end up staring at each other during a stretch of awkward silence, and Harry curses how it must look; as if he’s in fact leaving, not returning.

“What are you doing up!” Pomfrey demands, sounding absolutely horrified. Harry only blinks at her - slow, slow blinks that make his eyelashes glisten in the candlelight. To his great amusement, Pomfrey flushes red for a moment.

“I wanted a glass of water.” he says at last, taking pity at her. It’s true that a glass of water would be good anyway, and that there’s none at his bedside. Pomfrey flushes more, in embarrassment in this time.

“You could just have called for me, you know!” she berates, followed by an annoyed “ _Men_.”

Harry smiles charmingly at her and moves slowly to lie back on the bed.

“But I don’t know your name, miss, and it would have been awfully rude of me to not use it when asking for your undivided attention.”

“Poppy, Poppy Pomfrey.” she answers with a pretty blush. Harry can’t help but wonder how wrong it would be if he flirts with the nurse.

“A pleasure to meet you, Poppy.” he says with a wink. She gives a flustered giggle. “Harridan Albus Percival Florian Garrick Ollivander-Dumbledore at your service, but you may call me Harry.”

“Ollivander-Dumbledore?” Poppy exclaims, surprise written over her face. Harry shushes her.

“Dad doesn’t want people to know, it would be quite the scandal, you see. Especially as papa Florian and daddy Garrick have their reputations.”

He thinks for a moment that Poppy will faint. Perhaps he should stick to this story when he meets Voldemort at last; it would be greatly amusing to see if the Dark Lord will believe him.

“H-harry, you said?” Poppy mumbles at last. “Let me get you that glass of water!”

* * *

In the end, he has to stay in the hospital wing for a week. Harry spends the time shamelessly flirting with Poppy, getting randomly visited by Bella - who introduces him to her sister, Andromeda, and oh what a difference it is to see Andy as a 2nd year, and getting stared at by Dumbledore. At least Dumbledore gave him his wands back, together with the notes from Luna. He also gets to meet some of the other teachers whenever they wander into the hospital wing, but as most of them don’t understand why he hasn't been sent to St Mungo's or why the aurors haven’t been contacted, so most of them won’t talk to him. He is a highly suspicious character after all. A highly suspicious character that has yet to get a pair of glasses, and therefore is pretty blind as he can't use the Muggle lenses anymore.

He did get McGonagall to believe that he is the Fortescue-Ollivander-Dumbledore lovechild, and to indulge him in a game of chess which he loses in the most spectacular way, so he’s pretty happy with himself.

And dear Bella has told all the Slytherins that he’s the Dark Lord’s half-brother, so he’s definitely not bored. He hopes that the information will get back to Voldie somehow.

* * *

Leaving the hospital wing is like having a bucket of water dumped over his head, mostly because Bella did exactly that. He grins at her, and doesn’t do anything about the water that’s drenching his clothes and soaking his hair.

“I don’t want to see you back here again!” Poppy berates him, and uses a spell to dry him off. Harry winks at her as he closes the door to the hospital wing, and the he turns around to beam at Bella.

“No one actually told me to leave Hogwarts.” he tells her conspiratorially. “Do you have the bag of lemon drops and lube?”

Bella laughs and shakes her head.

“You’ll be the first they suspect if Dumbles die, Harridan-Hadrian-Harry.” she explains. Harry shakes his head slightly at how she insists on calling him all three names at once, just because she overheard him telling McGonagall about being a secret love child, after he already had told her about being related to the Dark Lord.

“You know, calling me Harry works just as well. Or Hadrian, if we’re entering Slytherin territory.”

Bella gives him a look, which translates pretty well into _the whole school is Slytherin territory, idiot_. Harry just grins at her.

“I’m happy you don’t want me kissed by Dementors.” he says instead, and starts leading the way down to the dungeons. He can just as well fuck shit up by proving himself to the Slytherins by speaking parseltongue.

“The only death that should kiss you is my Lord.” Bella declares dramatically.

“Bella, darling, we went over this. His names implies that he’s fleeing from Death, not that he is Death, and while I’m not saying anything about Black family customs, sharing a father is a bit too closely related to me.”

“You said that your father is a Muggle?” Bella asks, scrunching her nose up at the thought of her Lord being a half-blood. Or Harry assumes that’s the reason.

“Yes.”

“Then that doesn’t count.” she decides. He doesn’t have any good answer to that.

“...have you even met my brother?” he asks at last.

“Well. No. Father hasn’t introduced me yet.” she explains. “But I’ll make him, before I graduate.”

“I’ll introduce you.” Harry offers. He’s already fucking with the past, so why not. Bella beams at him, and starts dragging him by the hand to the dungeons.

“If you do, I’ll get you a bag of lemon drops and lube.” Bella promises. Harry laughs.

He doesn’t stop laughing as they enter the Slytherin common room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> harry is horrible. i guess we won't actually meet voldie any time soon


	4. some people don't even try to be convincing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slytherins don't need much proof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit short but it was just a good chapter

It takes the weight of the Slytherin students’ stares on him to start getting uncomfortable before Harry finally calms down. He smiles brilliantly at them, showing off his incisors and looking just slightly mad. Bella matches him with a big smile of her own, her hair seeming more electric than usual. He wonders if his eyes are glowing; it would really complete the picture of madness. At least he can see with them, thanks to Poppy and the wonders of magic. She could only let him stumble around the hospital wing half-blind so many times before taking pity on him and looking up a temporary charm. Which reminds him, he needs to get a pair of glasses or learn the charm before the day is over.

“ _That’s_ the Dark Lord’s brother?” a male voice asks, obviously incredulous. Harry looks over to be met with what must be a young Rodolphus Lestrange, or Rabastan. He can’t quite tell the difference, nor remember if they were twins or not. It doesn’t matter though, what’s matter is that he got questioned.

“ _Well, fuck you too._ ” Harry answers in parseltongue, which really is the easiest way to get the respect of a room full of kids. There’s a laugh from somewhere, which leads to all Slytherins to simultaneously turn toward a portrait hidden in a corner. Harry follows the direction of their gaze towards the portrait, which is of a dark-skinned man with long black hair and an admittedly sexy goatee. The snake around the man’s shoulders completes the look. Harry can’t help but feel slightly jealous; he wants to look sexy with long hair and a snake around his shoulders. He would also love to see some white eyeliner on the portrait. Maybe he should look up spells for changing portraits as well…

“That’s Salazar Slytherin.” Bella theatrically whispers next to him. “The portrait is under a notice-me-not charm. Until now the only proof that it existed were rumours.”

Harry blinks. Well, damn. It’s not every day that you get a founder to laugh by swearing. He can’t help but wonder if there are founder portraits hidden in the other common rooms; he might have to get inside and check.

“ _Are you going to let me be stared at, or are you going to take control of the situation?_ ” Salazar asks. Harry just shrugs at him, and claps his hands together to get the attention of the students. He makes sure to keep the portrait in the corner of his eye so that it can’t disappear back underneath the charm.

“Half-brother, Lestrange, but I’m sure you have proof now.” He wonders if anyone of them knows that Voldemort is related to Slytherin through his mother, and Harry is claiming to share a Muggle father with the Dark Lord. Honestly, he would have expected to have been called out on his bluff by Bella ages ago, but genetics are probably not her strongest side. Well, it’s more fun to him if his blatant lies are full of holes and _still_ goes by undiscovered.

“Apologies.” Lestrange - because Harry can’t for the life of him figure out which one it is - murmurs, and bows respectfully. Harry raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment.

“I want to talk with Slytherin. Leave.” he demands, more to see if they’ll obey him or not. He’s actually a bit surprised when they do. Apparently pretending to be related to Voldemort can take him far.

* * *

In another part of the United Kingdom, in a pureblood mansion, the Dark Lord in question is reading through letters that Hogwarts students have sent their parents. Usually it would be a waste of his precious time, and something he would not lower himself to do, but this time he wants to read through the information himself.

There’s a strange man at Hogwarts pretending to be his half-brother. Supported by the eldest Black daughter, out of all people. With plans to murder Dumbledore.

Voldemort needs to meet this man, either to kill or seduce into joining him. A crucio is definitely going to be involved; he threw away his Muggle father’s name, yet this unknown man is spreading it around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> voldie action! and honestly, how has bella not called harry's lie


	5. some people might be giant squids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry talks to Salazar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love this chapter tbh

After the last student has left the common room - except for Bella, who has appointed herself as Harry’s second in command and therefore decided that she has the right to stay - Harry runs over to the windows overlooking the great lake. He presses his palms and face against the glass as he scores the dark waters for the giant squid, or a grindylow, or even a selkie. To his utter delight a giant eye suddenly takes up his vision, and he starts waving to the giant squid.

“I wonder if the rumours that the squid is actually Godric Gryffindor is true.” he says as the squid winks at him. There’s a snort from Salazar’s portrait.

“It wouldn’t surprise me.” Salazar answer, speaking English instead of parseltongue for once. “I can’t remember him being an animagus, but I’m only a portrait. You’ll have to ask the squid, or Godric’s portrait.”

“There’s portraits of the other founders?” Bella asks. Harry is more interested in making silly grimaces at the squid, who seems to be entertained by his childish antics.

“Of course there are. We each left a portrait behind under charms in our respective common rooms to help future generations of students in need.” Salazar explains. Harry thinks back to his own time as a Hogwarts student and breaks out in laughter. His best guess is that Godric is asleep in his portrait, seeing how he was certainly in need of advice lots of times.

“Something funny?” Salazar questions.

“He’s just like that.” Bella explains, as Harry is busy laughing. The giant squid taps at the window glass, which makes him laugh even harder.

“Sorry.” Harry says at last, when he has calmed down. “Just thought of something funny.”

“Don’t ask.” Bella quickly warns.

“You two aren’t involved, I hope.” Salazar comments. “I admit I’m not sure what’s socially acceptable now a days, but an adult and a student is a bit much.”

“...involved?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “She’s more than half my age! Why would- I- And Bella! She’s like a little sister!”

“Harridan-Hadrian-Harry is going to court the Dark Lord, starting with murdering the Headmaster.” Bella says. Both Harry and Salazar takes a moment to just look at her questioningly.

“And who is the current Dark Lord?” Salazar asks, interested. “Grindelwald was called by name, but all I hear nowadays is You-Know-Who, and I don’t know who.”

“Tom Riddle.” Harry answers. “Your descendant.”

“Bright boy, that one.” Salazar mumbles. “Are you not related to me… Harridan, was it?”

“Hadrian.” Harry corrects. “And it’s complicated.”

“Harridan-Hadrian-Harry is the Dark Lord’s half-brother,” Bella starts explaining. “They share a Muggle father.”

“Unless my line turned into squibs down the line, I’m assuming that Tom’s mother was my descendant… so how are you speaking parseltongue if you two supposedly have a father in common?” Salazar asks.

“Well, you see… Tom’s father actually adopted me. My real parents are Albus Dumbledore - current Headmaster, Garrick Ollivander - a wandmaker, and Florean Fortescue, an ice cream maker. My existence was too scandalous, so they had no choice but give me away. Dear Tom Riddle Sr. adopted me together with his darling wife Cecilia. The Ollivander family is very old, and while none of your descendants ever married into it, there’s Naga blood in the family. With three magical strong parents, it was really only expected that I would inherit the parseltongue ability. My birth name is Harridan Albus Percival Florean Garrick Ollivander-Dumbledore, but my adopted name is Hadrian Thom Riddle. I much prefer going by Hadrian Mily Arthames Riddle; Tom is so overdone by now as we have grandfather Thomas, father Tom and brother Tom. Besides, only two names was too much of a change after being used to five. Most people simply call me Harry though.”

“That’s… quite a story.” Salazar answers after a moment of awkward silence. Harry is just waiting for someone to point out how questionable his story is, but nobody does.

“Why did you say that sharing a father is a bit too closely related for you, if you’re not related to the Muggle?!” Bella demands to know. Harry gives a giggle, because of course that’s the detail that got stuck with her.

“Should I really tell Voldemort that I’m Dumbles' lovechild?” he exclaims. “Imagine how that would go! It’s much easier if he thinks we share a blood father, and then I’m sure we’re too closely related for his tastes. I was just sparing time. We’re almost blood brothers anyway, we look alike enough and we both speak parseltongue.”

“That’s not how genetics work.” Bella protests. Harry really wonders what she knows about that.

“Voldemort?” Salazar questions, a perplexed look on his painted face.

“I am Lord Voldemort is an anagram for Tom Marvolo Riddle, because obviously no feared Dark Lord is called Tom.” Harry explains. He has turned back to watch the giant squid, which seems to be more amused than any squid has right to be. He really needs to see if there’s any truth to the rumour.

“No wonder they call him You-Know-Who, if they don’t actually know who.” Salazar answers. Harry starts laughing again.

“Oh, if only you were alive, you funny, sexy piece of man.” Harry sighs dreamily. “Wait- I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

Salazar just smirks at him, and Bella laughs. It’s good that someone is entertained, because Harry is suddenly dying of embarrassment.

* * *

Harry leaves the Slytherin common room after the enlightening conversation with Salazar. He’s split between going directly to the Gryffindor common room to find Godric, go outside to play with the giant squid, or going shopping. Not that he has any money to shop with…

What if Luna’s notes mentions money? He really should have read them when he first arrived in 1965. Oh well, better late than never.

Harry sits down, uncaring about the fact that he’s sitting on the dungeon floor, and takes out the notes from an inner robe pocket. He’s very thankful to Bella for getting some of the fourth and fifth years to give him their clothes, and also annoyed that he’s small enough for the fourth and fifth years’ clothes to fit him.

After smoothing out some wrinkles, Harry finally reads the first list of instructions.

  1. Bella will be more than happy to lend you some money.
  2. If you approach Florean about a job, he will give you one.
  3. Have St Mungo’s permanently fix your eyes, Voldemort disapproves of glasses as they’re a weakness.
  4. Dumbledore’s password is _sherbet fountain_. Be careful to not harm the Sorting Hat.
  5. Nifflers and bowtruckles.



The list ends there. Luna’s cryptic notes makes perfect sense now, in contrast to when he first read them back in his own time. He can only guess that each list is going to be relevant for the moment that he chooses to read it, but he’s not completely sure what to do with nifflers and bowtruckles.

...he’d love to have his hair full of bowtruckles and carry a niffler on his shoulder though. Yes, what a brilliant idea. Whenever Luna is born he’s going to spoil her rotten.

Before that he has to go back to the Slytherin common room and ask Bella for some galleons though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we finally got to see some of those notes luna wrote!
> 
> according to a random list of traditional british candy, sherbet fountain is a thing. i have no idea what it is tho. i think licorice and powder is involved.
> 
> oh and shout-out to kharma for wondering if harry can convince someone that he's both voldie's half-brother and the fortescue-ollivander-dumbledore lovechild


	6. some people might be into giant squids or just sexually frustrated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nifflers have been acquired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyy guess who is alive

By the time that Harry returns to the Slytherin common room, he has managed to acquire not one but two nifflers that have both decided that his hair was preferable to his shoulders. It did mean that his future bowtruckles would either have to be on his shoulders instead, or share his hair with the nifflers, but Harry was sure that something could be arranged. Maybe he could shrink the nifflers...

A smile takes over his face as he thinks about all the delightful trouble that shrunk nifflers could get into. He must look quite a bit more insane than usual, as a first year spots him and takes off in the other direction. Harry can’t find it himself to care - it’s perfect fuel for his growing reputation, as long as old Dumblydoor doesn’t hear about it. He really only cares what a certain Voldie thinks about him since that had been the whole reason he risked his life jumping into a library fire.

“Are you just gonna stand there and scare first years?” a familiar voice asks. Harry’s smile doesn’t dim as he turns his attention to the Lestrange. Apparently, Harry didn’t seem that scary after their initial meeting, something that surely would have to change in the near future if he was going to stay at Hogwarts. Or maybe it was the other Lestrange. He really should get them name signs.

“Well, I could scare you instead.” Harry suggests, far too cheerfully. It could definitely be entertaining to do some damage to the Lestrange, but it would also interrupt his other plans, and he really did want to go shopping.

“Not by smiling.” Lestrange scoffs. Harry’s smile grows wider, showing off his sharp incisors.

“See, I happen to have teeth for quite some reasons…” Harry starts to explain when Lestrange cuts him off by hurriedly saying the password to the common room. Harry can’t help but grimace in disappointment as he had been having fun, but he still follows Lestrange inside to find Bella.

She is not very hard to find as she is in a staring contest with the giant squid. Harry grows more convinced that the squid is Godric Gryffindor every time he sees it, and he decides to go interrogate it after he has gotten the shopping out of the way.

“Bella, darling dearest!” Harry exclaims dramatically as he flops down next to her. “Aid my need for new clothes by borrowing me some galleons, or have them stolen from you by my mighty nifflers.”

The mention of shopping catches Bella’s attention enough that she breaks eye contact with the squid, which is most definitely grinning in triumph in a way only a squid can.

“Or you can come shopping with me. I know my way out and in of the school.” Harry shrugs, it’s not really a big deal to him if Bella stays in the dorm or not. Shopping will definitely be more fun with her company though. He more feels than sees how Bella gets up from the floor, presumably to go grab her cloak.

“And how do you know that?” Salazar asks. Harry just hums, as he has taken up Bella’s earlier staring contest with the very amused squid. It really did spend a lot of time by the Slytherin dorms. Harry would have to ask if Godric and Salazar were an item later, because that was the least creepy explanation he could come up with. It was also the explanation that frustrated him the most though, as Salazar still was a hot piece of ass. Those genes had mostly survived though, so Voldie should also be a pretty hot piece of ass.

...was sexual frustration a side effect from ritual time travelling?

“How do you know your way in and out of school?” Salazar repeats.

“Oh. You know. Spoilers.” Harry answers with a shrug. He doesn't think the story he told Salazar involved any time travelling, but he really can’t be bothered to keep his stories straight. Or gay. His stories are all very bisexual.

...yeah, he is definitely sexually frustrated. Maybe he should have jerked off once or twice during his years wasted on a sofa.

Bella announces her return by putting her full weight on him, disturbing the nifflers that are still resting in his hair.  
“Harridan-Hadrian-Harry, stop eye-fucking the squid and take me shopping.” she demands.

Harry is more than happy to oblige. After he tries picturing fucking the squid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will take all opportunities to make people think about tentacle porn.
> 
> harry will never figure out which lestrange is rodolphus and which is rabastan.
> 
> also. the nifflers are probably hagrid's but some student stole them for shits and giggles, and now harry has adopted them for life.

**Author's Note:**

> comment, bookmark, kudos <333


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